Day 373-Harry Potter 373-Book 3-分享朋友圈打卡!!!
A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.
“It’s coming from your trunk, Harry,” said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry’s robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron’s hand and glowing brilliantly.
“Is that a Sneakoscope?” said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.
“Yeah . . . mind you, it’s a very cheap one,” Ron said. “It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol’s leg to send it to Harry.”
“Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?” said Hermione shrewdly.
“No! Well . . . I wasn’t supposed to be using Errol. You know he’s not really up to long journeys . . . but how else was I supposed to get Harry’s present to him?”
“Stick it back in the trunk,” Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, “or it’ll wake him up.”
He nodded toward Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Vernon’s old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.
“We could get it checked in Hogsmeade,” said Ron, sitting back down. “They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me.”
“Do you know much about Hogsmeade?” asked Hermione keenly. “I’ve read it’s the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain —”
“Yeah, I think it is,” said Ron in an offhand sort of way, “but that’s not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!”
“What’s that?” said Hermione.
“It’s this sweetshop,” said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, “where they’ve got everything. . . . Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you’re thinking what to write next —”
“But Hogsmeade’s a very interesting place, isn’t it?” Hermione pressed on eagerly. “In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack’s supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain —”
“— and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you’re sucking them,” said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.
Hermione looked around at Harry.
“Won’t it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?”
“’Spect it will,” said Harry heavily. “You’ll have to tell me when you’ve found out.”
“What d’you mean?” said Ron.
“I can’t go. The Dursleys didn’t sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn’t either.”
Ron looked horrified.
“You’re not allowed to come? But — no way — McGonagall or someone will give you permission —”
Harry gave a hollow laugh. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, was very strict.
“— or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle —”
“Ron!” said Hermione sharply. “I don’t think Harry should be sneaking out of school with Black on the loose —”
“Yeah, I expect that’s what McGonagall will say when I ask for permission,” said Harry bitterly.
“But if we’re with him,” said Ron spiritedly to Hermione, “Black wouldn’t dare —”
“Oh, Ron, don’t talk rubbish,” snapped Hermione. “Black’s already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he’s going to worry about attacking Harry just because we’re there?”
She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks’s basket as she spoke.
“Don’t let that thing out!” Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron’s knees; the lump in Ron’s pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.
“Get out of here!”
“Ron, don’t!” said Hermione angrily.
Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.
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